“Your problem is scarcely a problem,” he laughed, pinning my arms behind me to keep me from battering at his face. “The truth you must face is that you will be used, by another if not by me. The source of your difficulty lies not in the presence of men, but in having incurred the displeasure of another female. Now: though I may force your use with none to deny me, I will not do so for you are not banded as mine. Lost freedom does not equate with lost honor. As you refuse to send word to Aesnil, which will you have: a slave in chains—or a loyal servant?”
He gazed at me levelly, a faint smile still on his lips, but inwardly he was holding his breath and trying to ignore the signals his body was sending him. His long denied need kept flaring up like fireworks in a barrel, almost bright enough to see as well as feel, but he hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wouldn’t force me. Daldrin seemed to be a man of honor in many ways, but I couldn’t make the choice he was hoping for.
“I cannot have either,” I told him heavily. “There is yet a third choice, which I will take as soon as you release me. As you are familiar with the concept of honor, perhaps you will understand when I say I cannot allow myself to be used by any man. It would not be. . . honorable.”
“Your statement on honor is unclear.” He frowned, his mind honestly puzzled. “No woman may be held accountable for that which is done to her by a man. Is the man not larger and stronger than she, made to take whatever he wishes? To say a woman may not allow herself to be used else she faces dishonor is foolishness.”
“It is a concept firmly believed in by my people,” I told him stiffly, upset by the scorn I could feel in his mind. “No man of my people would wish to have a woman used by many others. No man—of any people—would wish such a one.”
“Ahhh, I believe I begin to see,” he said slowly as I looked down from his stare. “It is the belief of your people that a woman may not allow herself to be used, and yet you have been bedin to the Hamarda. Is this the reason you feel yourself unwanted by the l’lenda who took you from your land? From the beliefs of a people not his?”
“I believe so from the last words he spoke,” I whispered, prodded by the scorn he continued to feel. “ ‘I no longer find this bedin of interest,’ he said, and how might I deny his choice? Was I not proven a slave before his very eyes? Did I not heap dishonor upon him with my weakness? I cannot fault him for the disgust he felt, yet I cannot bear it. Release me, Daldrin, I beg you! Release me!”
I began struggling again so suddenly I caught him unawares, pulling loose before he had a chance to tighten his grip. Throwing myself to one side put me beyond his grab, and then I was pulling the gown’s skirt to one side and scrambling to my feet, heading for the windows and the waiting crevasse below them. I knew then that I hadn’t been trying to save my life by running from the Hamarda’s camp; I’d been trying to end it in more anonymity than the Hamarda would have allowed me. Right then anonymity was unnecessary; the deed alone was enough.
I reached the windows and flung the curtains aside, put one knee over the sill—but was taken around the waist before I could throw myself out. I screamed hoarsely and kicked with all my strength, trying to make him let go, but frenzy is nothing when matched against brawn. Daldrin pulled me away from the windows, carried me to the other side of the room, put me down on the floor, then knelt across me.
“To take your own life is a waste!” he said harshly, holding my wrists above my tossing head. “It is also the act of a coward! Are you such a coward, then?”
“Yes!” I rasped, still struggling uselessly. “A coward and worse! Let me do what I must!”
“For what reason must it be done?” he countered, scowling down at me. “For the foolish beliefs of a foolish wenda? For the beliefs of a people no longer yours?”
“I lied!” I spat, glaring at him wildly. “My people may believe what I said, yet I had never done so! Not once, with all the men I had, did it ever seem wrong! And then I met another man, a different man, one I wished desperately to belong to! Yet that man wished only the use of my power, speaking of love only to keep me beside him. He gave me to many men, when it was his touch alone that I died for. And then I was taken by the Hamarda, and he said—he—he—”
I couldn’t go on with the tears choking me, and it hurt too much even to think about. Daldrin let my wrists go and sat beside me on the carpet fur, then gathered me to him and held me while I cried. I don’t know exactly when I began talking again, but I ended up telling him everything—about how Tammad had lied when he said he wanted me, how be had watched me being used by other men and it hadn’t bothered him, how disgusted he had felt when I’d begged to be taken in his arms. At Daldrin’s gentle prodding, I admitted how ashamed I’d felt when I responded to other men with Tammad watching. I had no real reason to be loyal to the barbarian, but I’d still felt as though I were betraying him.
“I fail to understand how such a thing might be thought of as betrayal,” Daldrin said, smoothing my hair away from my face. “Are you not a woman, and were you not being used by men? How else is a woman to reply if not with her inner being? Do you think yourself stone rather than flesh?”
“If I were truly his, I would not be taken so by any touch other than his,” I explained unevenly, still leaning against his chest. “Although he care’s nothing for me, he must surely have been hurt by my failure.”
“Only if he were a fool,” Daldrin snorted. “No man of this world takes a woman but with the expectation that she will respond to him. Should she fail to do so, it is certain that either she is ill or he is clumsy and incapable. Some women may not wish to respond, perhaps due to anger at the man, yet such an attitude is scarcely unknown among free women. All men are aware of it, and most have learned what must be done to overcome it.”
“And yet it was possible to resist a number of the Hamarda,” I maintained, staring at the upper part of one of the arms that held me. “If it is possible with some men, it should be possible with all. The fault was obviously mine, for not having been determined enough.”
“Too many of the Hamarda have allowed themselves to become dependent upon bedinn,” he snorted in derision. “With females who must please you or forfeit their lives, a man quickly comes to believe no effort on his part is necessary. The Hamarda are not fit representatives of the men of this world.”
“To one of determination, all things are possible,” I repeated, really believing it. “Had I had the determination I have now, I would not have shamed myself.”
“Wendaa!” he muttered, the annoyed frustration growing in his mind. “Such foolishness is impossible to any save them. Hear me, woman: there is no shame to be found of the sort you speak of, for determination would be useless with any true man. Should you doubt the truth of this, I am prepared to prove it.”
“It cannot be proven,” I mumbled, feeling his heartbeat through his chest. “The choice is mine, and I will not allow myself to be used again.”
“The choice is yours only with a man of honor,” he said, and I could feel him looking down at me. “No matter how great its strength, should your determination be put to the test, it will fail.”
“It will not fail,” I said, knowing, really knowing I was right. “Had I the wish to increase your frustrations, I would invite your efforts.”
“I thank you for your consideration of my feelings,” he said, suddenly amused. “I, however, prefer accepting your invitation.”
I jumped when his hand came to the bottom of my gown, but I settled back against his chest again without protesting. He was determined to try wearing me down, and the best thing I could do would be to let him find out how wrong he was. Once he knew the truth he would leave, and then I’d be able to get on with settling my problems permanently.